By John De Gano
One of our volunteer receptionists shared a joke with me regarding a southern preacher castigating his flock for their lack of faith.
“We’re in a drought!” he exclaimed. “You claim to be God-fearin’ believers and you say you’re praying for rain. But you’re all a bunch of hypocrites! Where are your umbrellas?”
By John De Gano
The alarm went off at 3 a.m., signaling that our two and one half hour nap time was over and it was time for Cheryl and I to prepare ourselves for the next leg of our marathon endurance race through Holy Week that had begun with the procession of palms on Passion Sunday and was now culminating, eight days later, with an interfaith prayer service high atop Mt. Rubidoux on Easter Sunday morning.
By John DeGano
When Jesus told Zacchaeus that he was coming to his house that day, Zacchaeus was literally “up a tree.”
By Deacon John De Gano
I had come ahead to the cemetery to give myself time to think. To reflect not only on the words of comfort I would share with the young parents of their five year old son I had baptized not so many years before, but also in remembrance of the premature death of my first ‘god-child-to-be’ (a scant matter of days and hours after birth in the hospital) some 40 years ago.
By Deacon John De Gano
In his classic soliloquy, playwright William Shakespeare has the despondent Prince Hamlet contemplate the options of death or suicide.
Which is nobler? Accept the way things are or fight back?
